


Drifting on the Brink

by 1lostone



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstanding, No Pines were actually harmed in the writing of this fic, mututal pining, oh hey is that a pun? it should be a pun.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 17:18:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7582951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1lostone/pseuds/1lostone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zach doesn't quite know how to handle the idea of Chris being hurt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drifting on the Brink

**Author's Note:**

  * For [avictoriangirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/avictoriangirl/gifts).



> First posted in 2010(ish?). 
> 
> Written as a thankyou!fic for **avictoriangirl** for being totally freaking awesome. She requested a story where Chris’s parents are in an accident. Zach comforts his friend. Thanks to **amarin_rose** for the title! A million years ago **jademac2442** beta'd this but any mistakes are mine.

I almost didn’t take the phone call.

Have you ever just been so tired- so absolutely fucking _exhausted_ \- that you are almost drifting? Oh come on. You know what I’m talking about.  You get to that point where your mind drifts, zoning in between thoughts as your brain winds down to sleep?  I’d been like that for hours.

I’d missed my first flight back to LA, the one with the comfy first-class accouchements, and had to take a red-eye flight. Instead of my relatively comfortable surroundings I was expecting, I ended up stuck in coach in the back of the plane (something which always managed to freak me out since seeing LOST, thanks so much for _that_ , JJ.) between some screaming brat with severe gastronomical issues, and his mom, who seemed to think that when someone sat next to you with his iphone blaring through his headphones, it clearly meant you should ask ‘Sylar’ some random question every twenty-three seconds.  My mouth hurt from the polite smile. My agent would be proud. Hell, my _mom_ would be proud. I finally got out the pillow and pretended to sleep. Even then it had taken her ten minutes to get the hint. I still wanted to punch him in the balls.

I wanted my dog. I wanted my cat, my house, my shower with the double-penetrating massage (and yeah I still smirk a little when I think of it. Shut up.) and my bed. Oh god, my _bed_. Not necessarily in that order. The cab ride took forever. The cabbie informed me that we’d have to take a different route since there was some major pileup on I-10.  I dozed in the back, too tired to even login to Twitter and tell the masses that I was back.  We passed by Chris’s house and the sight of his familiar driveway made me smile a little. LA would never be home, despite all the time I’d spent here, but there were some things about it that made me miss the hell out of it. His lights were off. I might have stopped in, just for the hell of it had there been any signs that he was there and awake.

I paid the driver and managed to unlock my front door without falling on my face. I let my shit in the hallway and stumbled back to my bathroom, using the facilities and kicked my jeans off near the tub, stumbling to the sink to splash some water on my face. I wanted to brush my teeth. My breath tasted like I’d been on a plane for too many damn hours.   When I finally made it to my bedroom, I wanted to cry. I stripped off my t-shirt and flopped down onto my stomach, spread-eagled, smooshing my face into my clean, blissfully soft pillow.  I wiggled my toes, and then wiggled my hips in pure joyous comfort.  My mind started to relax, the casting worries, production worries, hell even _catering_ worries draining away.

Then my phone rang.

Even from where I had kicked my jeans in the bathroom, the sound seemed strangely loud.

Fuck.  

I tried to ignore it, letting it go to voicemail. But the damn thing just started ringing again, and with a sinking feeling I realized that it had to be Ma. I’d forgotten to call her when the plane landed. She didn’t much care for little things like time zone differences.  This was the same woman that sat up until four in the morning until I staggered in from the after Prom party, stoned off my ass and trying to hide it. Shit. I was pushing myself up, realizing that it was going to the third cycle.  Catholic guilt might have had me moving a little quicker than normal, padding into the dark bathroom and fishing my phone out of my jeans.

“Hey Ma. Sorry I-“

“Zach? Jesus where the fuck, man. Why the hell didn’t you pick up?”

“Joe?” My brain wasn’t working well enough. He sounded absolutely panicked.  I heard my brother take a deep breath. “I’m on my way. It’s… It’s Chris, man. There’s been an accident.”

I froze. Stupidly, I wanted to ask ‘Chris who?’ because I knew that he couldn’t be talking about _my_ Chris. “What?” I whispered, unable to force anything louder out of my suddenly frozen vocal cords. The sensation of cool bathroom tile against my legs was my first inkling that I had collapsed onto the floor. My knuckles were white against the plastic phone.  I stared at two hairs on my knuckles through a gaze that wavered.

“Shit.” Joe sounded tired. I could picture him pinching the top of his nose with the beginning of a migraine. “Zach, I have another call. Maybe they’ll know more. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Later, I couldn’t say how long I sat there.  It was so stupid. The only thought that kept running in my head was that I had loaned him my car, so the accident must have been my fault somehow.  My house was silent except for the harsh sound of my breathing. _Chris… accident. Chris… accident._ I just couldn’t make my brain wrap around those two concepts.

I heard the beep the security system gave when someone drove through the gate. It echoed through my empty house, startling me into action.  I unfolded myself from the floor, staggering a little, catching my hip sharply on the edge of the faux marble countertop. I bent and still with the death grip on my phone, shimmied into my jeans and ran back to my bedroom to find a shirt. I couldn’t even tell you what I snatched. Hell, I didn’t even notice until I slid into Joe’s car that I put on flip flops. I was just glad they matched.

“Okay. I don’t have much information.  There was an accident on the 10. A drunk driver. My buddy, you know Mike? The one who does security for me when I’m shooting someone big? Well, he gave me a head’s up when the call went through. Chris, his mom and his dad.  No word from the hospital on their conditions. They’re keeping this pretty under wraps. Publicity I guess. “

I wanted to puke.  My head lolled on the headrest, staring out of the window.  Cars passed by without much notice; people doing whatever it is that they were doing. I felt stupid tears burn my eyes and blinked them back, feeling ridiculous.  I could sense Joe looking at me out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t try to offer me any false assurances.

Joe was probably the only person who really knew about my stupid crush, then not so stupid and not so crush-like feelings towards Chris.  About five months ago, we’d been drinking on Joe’s birthday.  He had gotten this determined glint in his eye and before I knew it, he was bitching me out fifteen ways from Sunday for ‘crushing on the straight boy.’ Like I needed to be told this. Okay, so maybe I did.  I’d made a conscious effort to stop, knowing that that shit didn’t work out too well in real life.  I’d purposely put some distance, _physical_ distance, between us, setting up in New York and using the fact that _Heroes_ finally tanked as an excuse.  

Then Chris would call about something and we’d talk… taking up where we’d left off like no time had passed. Him going from subject to subject like he does, absolutely intensely focused on each one in that way he had. I could close my eyes and see him talking, those fucking gorgeous eyes lit up in amusement or sadness, depending on the topic, Chris’s hands waving around as he tried to make a point.  I couldn’t make myself quit him completely.  And if maybe I would read too much into this text, or that email, well that was my business.

To think that Chris could be..? No. I couldn’t even say the word in my head without the nausea lurching in my stomach. And fuck, how much of an asshole was I? His _parents._ Chris and his parents were like this crazy Waltons type thing. His dad was hilarious. His mom was a sweetheart.  I didn’t want them to be hurt; of course I didn’t but ... But… _Chris_. I couldn’t stop thinking about Chris.  

 _God please let him be okay. Please._  

* * *

 

The hospital looked busy. When the doors slid open, I paused for a moment overwhelmed by the lights and commotion.  Joe steered me into the emergency room, propelling me up to the information booth where two harried nurses were both on the phone. I looked around, realizing that they must have taken most of the accident victims to the same hospital. I cast furtive glances at the people crammed into the chairs, alcoves, and most of the available space, looking at their injuries, imagining each wound on Chris’s body.  Fuck, it was driving me crazy. Joe gave me a look as I pushed ahead of him, smiling at the nurse.

“Look, miss?”

She ignored me, writing something down on the pad in front of her.

“Miss? Please. I just need some information.”

She sucked her teeth and gave me a dirty look. “You’ll have to wait for a moment, sir. We are quite busy here. Clearly.”

I opened my mouth, but Joe yanked on my arm, shaking his head. “C'mon, Zach. We’ll find something out once we just find somewhere to relax a little.”

Relax?! How the fuck was I supposed to _relax_?   Joe pulled me to the side and we pushed ourselves into a blank spot against the wall.  I kept tugging at my t-shirt, at my hair, picking at a hole in my jeans. God I wanted a fucking cigarette so bad that I could actually feel my lungs shiver with want.

While Joe waited and I twitched, I watched as understaffed hospital staff attempted to bring wounded people into their triage area. I wasn’t exactly operating at my best, but I knew that was where I needed to go.  Joe was on his phone to someone. His voice was just so much background noise and it wasn’t very hard for me to put my pathetic attempt at a plan into motion.  I snorted to myself. _Plan_.  Some plan. It consisted of me getting the fuck behind those double doors and finding Chris.

I felt pretty despicable for doing it, but I waited until a loud, obviously-in-pain woman was holding her arm and crying, being escorted towards the room by a couple of people in scrubs.  I simply pushed away from the wall and walked up to the orderly, making myself part of the craziness. I felt horrible for lying, and as I met Joe’s furious gaze for the briefest of moments, I felt like even worse shit, but I _had_ to do this.  The overworked nurse at the check-in station didn’t see me and buzzed the people in scrubs through.

I know I looked completely out of place as I walked down the hall, pulling away from the people in scrubs and their patient.  I didn’t care.

My heart started to pound once I looked at all the little triage rooms. They weren’t very big, big enough for one or two people plus some medical staff to assist them.  I felt a cold drop of sweat slide down my spine. I took a deep breath and started to walk down the hall, trying to prepare myself for seeing Chris, or his parents…

“Zach?”

I turned so quickly that my flip flop slid on the waxed floor and if he hadn’t reached out his hands to catch me I would have busted my ass. As it was I bit the fuck out of my tongue.  My eyes widened.  My hand came up to clutch at his forearm.

_Chris._

He had a butterfly bandage over his eyebrow and some bloodstains from what had obviously been some kind of scalp wound on his ear, neck and the collar of the dressy white shirt he was wearing.  His eyes were impossibly wide, his face bloodless beneath his tan.

“Chris.” My voice cracked and I was yanking him towards me, wrapping my arms around him and hanging on for dear life. It seemed impossible, _miraculous_ that he was okay.  “I. I thought. I thought…” My brain stuttered as I felt his face in the crook of my neck. His lips burned against my skin as he spoke.

“They won’t tell me anything. They won’t tell me, Zach I don’t know I don’t know I …”             

My arms tightened even further.  I was clutching at him, and for once couldn’t make myself stop. Chris took a wet breath and I knew he was about to lose it. Fuck, stupid. Hearing him babble like that was your first clue. Chris just doesn’t do that.

I pulled away a little, casting around for somewhere to go where he would have a little more privacy.  There was one of those patient waiting rooms not too far from where we were standing and Chris didn’t seem to notice when I maneuvered us inside.  The lights were kept very low. One woman was crying into a Kleenex in one of the lazy chairs, so I pushed and prodded Chris until we collapsed onto a loveseat, as far from her as we could get.

Chris was not a pretty crier.

His eyes were bloodshot, the normal bright blue looking dull and cloudy. His skin tone was all blotchy. He kept breathing heavily, taking these horrible-sounding, gasping breaths. Tears and snot soaked my shirt and my neck, and all I could do, the only goddamn thing I could think to do was to hang on, moving him so that he was almost in my lap. My shirt was held so tightly in his fists that I thought for a moment that he would rip it.

“Chris. Chris, come on. Deep breaths, man. Calm down. You need to calm down so you can tell me what is going on.” Useless words. I kept rubbing his back, clutching him to me, hearing his heart thudding so loudly that I thought for a second that he was going to have a heart attack.  I noticed the woman get up and leave.  I might have nodded at her, I couldn’t be sure. My attention was on the man in my arms.

“We were cele…brating. I had… the opening of the play.  I’d driven, but,” Chris took a deep shuddering breath and when he spoke his voice sounded very small. “But my dad took my keys cuz I’d had a few.”

I closed my eyes at the guilt in his voice.

“Came out of nowhere, Zach. I just remember the airbags and my mom’s sc-sc-ream. And. And, _fuck_.” Chris’s voice cracked and he dissolved into sobs again.  

Joe always teases me that being gay automatically makes me some sort of emotional shelter- but seriously,  I don’t think I’d ever been this invested in someone else’s emotions before.  Not for the first time, my little ‘crush’ made me ... well. Let’s just say I didn’t think I’ve ever wished so hard my _life_ for the skill to make someone else feel better. I rested my head against the wall and just sat there for a moment, my whole world narrowing to the hand that clutched Chris to me and the hand that rubbed continuously on his back.

There was a footstep at the doorway and I looked up to see Joe standing there with his hands crossed over his chest. A woman in a doctor’s white coat stood next to him.  My stomach clenched and I gently disengaged Chris from my shoulder.  I kissed his temple and brushed some of the tears from his face. I didn’t know where all this was coming from, but it felt right so I went with it.  “Hey.” My whisper was as soft as I could make it, but it still seemed to jar Chris, and he flinched away from me, wiping his face on the tail of his shirt. His eyes met mine and for a second I felt like I’d been punched.  It was my turn to take a shaky breath. “I think they need to talk to you.”  Chris bit his lip hard enough that I could see the white skin where the blood completely left the area. He nodded and looked over to where my gaze had rested nervously on the doctor and my brother again.

“Mr. Pine. I have some information for you about your parents.”  Chris stood up and physically seemed to brace himself, straightening his shoulders and spine as though making himself appear taller would somehow make the news less shitty.

“Are they okay?”  His voice was so rough that it hurt my heart to hear it.  I stood up and was shocked when Chris’s hand came out to clutch mine, the grip completely at odds with how tightly he was controlling his face and body language.  

“The car that hit your vehicle hit it head on, and the impact caused your vehicle to flip over into the oncoming traffic. Both airbags deployed and due to the fact that all of you were wearing your seatbelts, well, Mr. Pine, it seems like the three of you had remarkably few major injuries.”

Chris’s hands tightened so hard on mine that I could feel some of the smaller bones in my hand grind together.

“What injuries?”

What the fuck was wrong with this doctor? I mean could she make telling him what happened any more dramatic? Spit it out already!

“Your father has a concussion. He also broke his tibia and has several burns on his left arm, presumably from the airbag. Your mother broke some of the bones in her face, namely the vomer and a fracture of the maxilla, again presumably on impact. That’s in her nose and right here.” She indicated the spot where her top teeth were.  I winced.  Your mother also broke her left wrist. Both have quite a number of contusions and abrasions, but for the most part…” she trailed off, looking up from her chart.  “Extremely lucky.”

“Can I see them?”

“Of course. Your father has been moved to a private room, for observation overnight, and your mother… well, she refuses to leave him. I am positive she’s there.” The doctor’s lips quirked in a smile and I felt myself beaming back at her. I couldn’t keep the smile off my face if I tried. I grinned at Joe, grinned at the floor, and grinned at Chris who smiled back and gently disengaged his hand from mine.

Joe smiled at the woman. “Thanks again. I really appreciate your help.”

She smiled back and left the little room, leaving both of us staring at Chris.

I watched as he ran his hands through his hair, which was longer than I remembered. Must be for his role.  I could see tears trembling on his eyelashes and couldn’t seem to look away. It actually took me a few minutes to put myself back into ‘friend’ and not ‘comforter’ mode.  I turned away and took a deep breath, composing myself.  Joe looked from me to Chris and said something about waiting in the lobby, and to text him when I was ready to go.

“No, hey man. You don’t have to stick around. I’ll make sure Zach gets home. We can share a cab or something.” Chris looked at me, all of the sudden looking somewhat nervous. “Um, if you want to stay, I mean.”

“Sure I do.” I smiled, ignoring my exhaustion that seemed to be creeping back up on me, now that the crisis was mostly over. Thinking Chris had been… hurt… had really been indescribable. Finding out that his parents were pretty much okay was... God. It was just amazing.  I walked over to Joe and gave him a hug. “Thanks.” He hugged me and looked at me in that way he had. He looked concerned.  “I’m fine.  I know you have to work in a few hours. I can handle this.” I grinned at him and he nodded.

“If you say so. Call me if you need something else.” Joe shook Chris’s hand and gave me one more searching look before he left.

“We can probably find out the room number from one of the nurse stations.” I nodded and followed Chris from the room.

The awkwardness I was expecting seemed to be coming back with a vengeance. Chris kept quite a bit of space between us as we walked.  It wasn’t the first time that had happened to me, but it was the first time that Chris really seemed to feel uncomfortable around me, and I’d be lying if I said that it didn’t make me sad. And piss me off. A little.

We found the room with little trouble and I hung back to give Chris some privacy while he talked with his parents.  I went to the vending machines and found a Dr. Pepper. I fucking loved Dr. Pepper. It was like crack. I wasn’t sure of the actual caffeine content in it, but it kept me awake for ages.  I drank it, burped, decided on the pretzels over the Funions and was just finishing them when Chris came out of his dad’s room, clearly looking around for me.

He smiled the 100-watt smile that could stop the paparazzi cold and I felt its effect. His eyes were still a little bloodshot, but he looked so much better.  Amazing.   _Gorge_ -I had to make myself look at the blood on his shirt so that I would stand there with my half-empty Dr. Pepper bottle and a hard on, because hey skinny jeans made my ass look awesome but they didn’t exactly hide anything, either. Not to mention _ow_. 

“Hey! Mom wants to say hi, and then I think we can head out of here.”

I nodded and walked down the corridor, walking into the hospital room with my grin as wide as I could make it.  Chris’s mom gave me a huge hug and she didn’t look that bad, aside from looking like she went three rounds with Mike Tyson.  Her nose was swollen and packed with gauze. The skin under her eyes was bruised so that she looked like a raccoon.  I hugged her back rather gingerly. Chris’s dad was asleep, his leg in a cast over the blankets.  His arm was also in a cast.

“He’ll be fine. He’ll have both me and Christopher to fuss over him until he gets well.”

“Yeah, but who is going to fuss over you?” I joked as I lightly touched her face.

She laughed and rolled her eyes.  “I’m fine. They’re even bringing in a little cot in for me to sleep on.”

A nurse came in to give Chris a few last marching orders, and Chris stepped out of the little room so that they wouldn’t disturb his dad.  I gave Gwynne another hug and was surprised when she clutched at my shoulders. “Zach please don’t leave him alone tonight. He’s in a bad place. He thinks this is all his fault.”

My eyes widened at the urgency in her whisper. I nodded dumbly and saw her eyes clear a little from the worry that had been implicit in her gaze.  We stepped apart as Chris walked back in, holding a prescription.

“They’re giving me the good stuff. Good thing I’m not driving.” Chris’s smile seemed brittle, his words forced. I stepped aside for Chris to hug her goodbye again, my eyebrows knitting with concern.  In a bad place? Chris? I think I’d seen him upset a total of three times since we _met_ , and one of those times had been tonight.  What did ‘in a bad place’ mean for Chris?

I waved goodbye, Chris kissed his mom, and we walked out of the hospital.

I took out my phone. Jesus. It was already four in the morning. It was like seeing the numbers made me even more tired. Chris took care of hailing the cab and I tried not to fall over.

“Hey did they say anything about you having a concussion?”  It just popped out of my mouth. It was the first time I’d said anything about his injuries.  Chris gave me a weird look. “Nope. Just a bump. I’m good.”

“I was just wondering if you wanted to come to my place, or if I should sleep at yours?”

“Do you have any food?”

I shook my head.

“I’ve got food. And your cat.”

I wanted to smack myself on my own forehead. Joe had taken Noah while I was gone, but Chris had volunteered to keep Harold, since he was slightly less labor-intensive.

Chris’s lips quirked in a little smile. “I’m sure there’s some sort of pussy joke in there somewhere but I’m too tired to think of it. And frankly, man. You look like shit.”  I just nodded mutely.  I was saved from a response by the cab showing up and we slid inside. Chris gave his address and my head lolled against the back of the seat.  I sighed.

Chris kept his gaze on the outside window. I wondered what he was thinking about. Something not good, judging by the tension in his body.  The awkwardness from earlier was still here.  I was so tired. I wanted to ask him; I mean, we’d always been able to talk. But god. Too tired. I think it hit me then, the fact that Chris was really okay. That his parents were... okay. I could feel my heart start to pound again and I had to ball my hands into fists so that they wouldn’t shake. I sucked in a breath, a gasp of air and Chris turned to look at me. He didn’t say anything, didn’t touch me, but his little smile told me he understood. I was surprised by how much I wanted to feel him. To have some sort of connection- but he’d done everything to separate the two of us but put up barbed wire and dig a moat.

So I closed my eyes instead.

There was no traffic, and we made it to Chris’s house in record time.  Or maybe I dozed during the ride, I don’t know.  He touched my knee and I jolted awake and scrambled to get out of the cab while he paid the driver.

“I passed by here earlier today. I was gonna come in.”

Chris nodded and unlocked his door.  “I was a little busy earlier.” He stood aside and let me enter first.  “Hey you know where everything is.” Chris didn’t bother with the lights as he walked to his kitchen.  I heard the clink of a bottle.  The freezer door opened and there was the sound of ice cubes. Rubbing the back of my neck, I walked into the kitchen. Chris was standing in front of the open freezer door, head bowed.

“Hey.” I couldn’t help it. I reached out and touched his shoulder. “They’re _fine_.”

He straightened and shut the freezer. I could tell that Chris had turned around, but my eyes hadn’t adjusted very well to the dark room. You wouldn’t think that the dinky little freezer light would put out much actual light, but when it was gone you could really tell. I saw the glint of Chris’s eyes and had time to think _close he’s too close_ before my brain stalled.

“Zach why did you go out there tonight?” His voice was so low I could barely hear it, but the hot little puffs of air on my face from his lips caused my eyes to widen. I had a flash of memory, of collapsing down onto my bathroom floor in shock.  A memory when I heard his voice in the hospital hallway.

“I. uh-“

Chris’s lips ghosted over mine and I had the presence of mind to jump back. I was glad for the darkness when I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to put some expression on my face that wasn’t abject terror. It was hard to speak with my brain babbling _what the fuck what the fuck what the_ _fuck_ over and over, but I managed.  “I’m just going to take a shower.  Thanks for the bed and all. Let me know if you need something, okay?”  

Okay so maybe my voice was a tad high-pitched. Fuck though, what was I _supposed_ to do? It was almost like. I mean it felt like… shit. I couldn’t even think.  I think I was so tired that I was imagining things. ‘Cuz no way on god’s green earth did Chris Pine just come onto me in his kitchen.  I turned and walked to the back of the house.

Chris had a way of leaving all his clean clothes folded in the laundry basket that normally annoyed the shit out of me, but since it meant I could swipe a pair of sweatpants to sleep in, today I was okay with it. I guess I’d be freeballing it because nope. Not going to wear Chris’s underwear.  I stumbled into the bathroom and stripped, peed, then stepped into the shower. Chris kept a really nice guest bathroom, and I smiled to see that the shampoo and conditioner that I used was sitting on the little window sill. He even had organic soap.   I turned the water as hot as I could stand and stood under the punishing spray, loving how it leached the exhaustion out of my muscles. It didn’t take very long before I had a roomful of steam and a lot of lather worked up as I washed my body.

Maybe I should have expected it. I don’t know.  But to say I was surprised when I heard the shower curtain slide open would be putting it extremely mildly.  I was facing the water spray. I heard the _sniiick_ of the shower curtain and turned just in time to see Chris step calmly into the shower, like we’d showered together a hundred times before.  I had completely frozen and watched wide-eyed as  Chris calmly shut the curtain behind him, quickly enough so not too much of the steam had escaped, and reached forward, taking the washcloth out of my hand and trailing it along my chest.  My eyes trailed over him, had a quick glimpse of _naked_ naked _oh my god he’s NAKED_ before snapping my eyes back up to his face, before remembering that I was not a fourteen-year old and  _had_ actually showered with someone before. 

I thought I was dreaming, to be honest.  I mean wouldn’t you?

“Uh. What are you doing?” My voice came out quite conversational, considering the circumstances.  I watched as Chris’s hand flexed in the cloth, rubbing it over my pec, my shoulder and down back over my nipple. Chris dropped the washcloth in answer, so just his hands were running over me.  His gaze was centered on my dick as it started to get hard, his slightly calloused hands rubbing down over my sides.

“Just taking a shower.” He whispered it, not looking at me.

Yeah, no.  I grabbed his wrist before he could touch me, trapping his hand against my stomach.  My brain was finally coming back online, for all that it was shrieking at me that this was a seriously, completely bad idea.

“Seriously, Chris, what the fuck are you doing?”  I tightened my grip, watched as he raised his eyes to look at me.  I saw nerves, a false bravado that was leaking away, like the soap swirling down the drain.

“Please?”  He whispered it.  

Such a bad idea. Seriously, epically, colossally bad.  It hurt to look at his face. The fact I couldn’t look him in the eyes should have been a sign.

“Turn around.”  I released his wrist and grabbed the soap. He turned around and god. His back. It was fucking beautiful. He had some freckles on his shoulder, and some old scars right above his left shoulder- but it was like being offered a buffet.  I washed him, every inch of him that I could reach. He didn’t say a word as I stroked his skin, using the soap as an excuse. He stiffened a little when I touched his ass, but spread readily enough for me when I pushed his knee with mine. I don’t know what he was expecting, that maybe I would just fuck him against the shower wall, and trust me the thought crossed my mind. But no. This was…  I just kept telling myself that if I was only going to have once chance to do this then I was going to fucking do it right.

Chris was still silent as I soaped down his legs, ignoring his ass for the moment.  I knelt so that I could wash his calves and feet, making sure I got every inch.  He jumped a little when I washed between his toes and I laughed a little under my breath.  I moved back up his legs, standing as my hands got higher and higher. I had to stop a few times for more soap.  My fingers closed over his hips, and he shuddered, leaning back into my touch.  When I realized that, I had to bite my lip.  I tightened my grip on his hips for a moment before pushing him a little so that he was braced against the wall. I had to admit that what I did next was more to test him to see if he would freak out. Those straight boys always did when you start to play with their ass.

Okay, so maybe this was one of my favorite parts of his body.  Don’t lie, you’ve seen it. Maybe not quite the way that I have, but you know what I mean, right? Shit, you could balance a glass of wine on it.  I didn’t have any wine glasses, but I did have my hands and used them, stroking over the globes gently at first, then not so gently when I heard his stifled gasp. I just grabbed two handfuls, rubbing the palms of my hands against him, then pushing his skin together. I made sure my hands were really soapy and spread his cheeks apart, slowly, waiting for him to bolt.  I touched him in between, rubbing my finger all the way from his tailbone down to his balls and fuck, he was spreading his legs, arching back _into my touch._

I felt like I won the fucking lottery or something.  One hand played with the sensitive skin between his asscheeks, stroking over the tiny opening, then down, then pressing, doing whatever I could think of to keep him twitching. I didn’t go inside though. Despite how much I might have wanted to, I had the presence of mind to stop.

“Zach... _fuck_ I…”  

His whisper sent me shuddering, and I took a step forward. I moved so that my hip was against his ass, not my cock, because hello. I wasn’t a saint here, but the rest of my body was pressing against him.  So far I’d done a pretty spectacular job of ignoring my own needs. I was so hard that the head was this deep, flushed red and I knew it wouldn’t take much for me to come like this. I reached around and my eyes fluttered shut as I touched Chris’s cock for the first time.  He cried out, something garbled that sounded vaguely like my name, and I pressed my forehead against his shoulder as I tightened my grip.  My hand was slick as I worked him, trying to picture his dick as I touched him, moving my thumb over the head and turning my wrist as I moved back down over the base. Chris tightened his ass, thrusting into my hand and it was my turn to jump when I felt his hand come down and touch me.  My eyes widened. I couldn’t help it. I was fucking shocked that he would touch me.  That he would _want_ to.  We stood there for a second, both of us frozen. I reached my tongue out to lick at the water on his skin and he made sort of a strangled sound as I started moving my hand again.  I could feel it when he let go, the way his body tensed and released, closing my eyes as I imagined him spurting over my hand, his flushed, beautiful cock shaking in my grip.

“Zach…”

I don’t know if it was his whisper or his hand, but I felt my own dick pulse and without thinking I pressed my teeth against the skin of Chris’s shoulder, muffling my shout. God knows what I would have said if I didn’t.

Chris’s water heater had a spectacular sense of timing because it was about then that the water started to get cold. There wasn’t any in-between, either. It went from hot, steamy love sauna to fucking ice-cubes-against-your-balls-in-Antarctica cold.  I yelped and jumped against Chris.

He started to laugh and just to be an asshole, bucked his hips so that the water cascaded down on my back.  He jumped out of the shower, still laughing, but not before I was able to smack his ass.

That little moment did a lot to reassure me.

Maybe this wouldn’t be the ginormous clusterfuck that I had been anticipating. I knew this wasn’t going to end well, but until then I had been sure that there would be no friendship left to salvage.  I shut off the water and stood there for a moment, shivering.  

“Come on, Zach. I found a toothbrush for you.”

Well, didn’t _someone_ sound perfectly normal after being jacked off in the shower by one’s best friend.

“Right. Thanks.” I called back. Mr. Cool.  I brushed my teeth, dried off (the fucker took the towel and left me with the little face towel that could barely dry off a zit, let alone my body) and slid on the sweats. They were a little baggy on me; hanging down fairly low on my hips. It was better than being naked though.  I shut off the light and padded to the guest bedroom, the bed calling my name like some sweet siren.  I glared at the window and pulled the blinds. Fucking birdsong. God, I was tired. The room was as dark as it was going to get. I stretched and turned towards the bed.

Chris was laying in it, hands behind his head, staring at me.

I stopped in mid-stretch, mortified to realize that I was blushing.  I knew that look. I’d seen it on his face hundreds of times, directed to various fangirly starfuckers on the junket, to famous actresses at parties, to girls at clubs. Never to me. His gaze was hooded, direct as he flicked his eyes up and down my entire body.   

I swallowed.

He seemed to realize what he was doing and turned bright red. I have to admit it was kind of endearing.  I raised my eyebrow and climbed into bed.

“So, what, this is some kind of post-coitus cuddling?”

“You sound like Spock.”

I opened my mouth to say something about something being illogical, but yawned instead.  Chris laughed and pulled the blankets up over us.  

“So I’m kind of a cuddleslut. Just shut up and come here.”  I did, and it was surprisingly comfortable, our legs tangling together and me spooning up against the back of his body. I’d like to say that I was lulled to sleep by the sound of his heartbeat or something else sweet like that, but no. I didn’t remember my head hitting the pillow.

* * *

 

When I woke up, I was alone. Except for Harold, who had curled up beside my head on the pillow.  My eyes were gross, and it took a second to clean them out enough so I could blink blearily at the guest room.

Shit.

I had a bad feeling about this. My heart started to beat as I sat up, the covers puddling down around my waist.  I could still see the indentation of Chris’s head on the pillow next to me, and God, it hurt to see. I wasn’t stupid. I knew what this meant. I strained to listen, kind of hoping too much to hear the sound of someone else moving in the house.

It was like a tomb. Shit. _Double_ _shit_.  I scrambled out of bed.  I knew this dance. Absence yourself from awkwardness in the hopes that whoever you’d slept with would get lost while you were gone, thereby avoiding any awkward conversations.  Sometimes I feel like I’d _invented_ that dance.  Harold gave me a disgruntled look as I disturbed his sleeping spot, and stalked off with his tail high in the air.

Fucking traitor cat.

I went to the bathroom and grabbed my clothes, just tossing on my shirt and grabbing my phone and keys. I found a bag, made a face to see that Chris was still using plastic bags, then shoved my clothes in it. I was a little freaked out now.  My mind kept going in these random circles- why did I do that? What part of me could have possibly thought that jerking Chris off in a shower was a good idea? Chris had freaked out so badly _he left his own fucking house_ to get away from me.  I made sure to leave out the back way. We’d used this back when paparazzi were practically hiding themselves under bushes to get a shot of Chris when the movie was coming out, and neither of us wanted to deal with cameras.

I actually stopped short for a minute, my heart stuttering in my chest.  I realized that we wouldn’t be hanging out any more.  No more stupid nights filled with shitty food and bad TV. Or playing Scrabble after a night of clubbing, if neither of us had managed to hook up with someone.  No more Rockband tournaments. I shut my eyes for a second then forced myself to jog home.  I told myself that it was the sun that was causing my eyes to water.

I was a fucking liar.

 

* * *

I was lying on my couch, listlessly flipping through TV channels when I heard the pounding on my door.  I sat up, quickly, sending the bag of chips that had been resting on my chest sliding to the floor.  I was halfway to my front door when I realized two things.  One- It was only about eleven in the morning. Joe had a shoot, and there was no way that he was done.  Two- my gate alarm hadn’t gone off.  

“Open the goddamn door, Zach or so help me I’ll start it out here.”

I blinked.   _Chris_?

My hand was moving to unlock the door before my brain had caught up with itself.  I pulled the door open, and Chris stepped inside immediately, pushing me back with his body.

He looked absolutely livid.

I knew I was gaping at him, but fuck.

“What the fuck, man? I get back home and you are _gone_?” His hand snapped out to clutch at my bicep. “I know you like shit casual, and that’s fine but no way are you going to just treat me like…”

I jerked my arm out of his grasp. He just took a step closer, grabbing both of my arms this time. I took a giant step back in reaction and stumbled over my own luggage, left there from last night. He steadied me with an almost punishing grip, then his hands gentled.

“You were gone when I woke up.”  Was that pathetic-sounding whisper my voice?

He let go of me to run one hand through his hair. His eyes were so blue it almost hurt to look at them, making me think of lasers and blue skies and fuck, I was one pathetic bastard.

“I. Went out. To get you. Coffee. _Asshole_.”

Oh.

“For such a smart guy, you can be incredibly dense. What the hell do you think I’d been doing these past few months?” His voice was gentle. The hand in his hair reached out, slid against the line of my jaw. I hadn’t shaved in awhile and probably had quite the mountain man thing going on, but Chris didn’t seem to mind, rubbing his thumb back and forth, sliding it down and over my chin.

“When I saw you in that hospital and you were … perfect. You looked scared to death, Zach. Everything was falling apart, I couldn’t get anyone to fucking tell me _anything_ about mom or dad and then you were there.” His thumb moved over my lips.  “Why did you leave, Zach?”

_Oh._

He sounded like I had punched his mother, ran over his dog, then took pictures and sold them to TMZ.  He ducked his head so that all I could see was his face. He looked solemn as he waited for me to answer.

“I.” My brain stopped as he moved his thumb back over my bottom lip. My mouth opened and I sucked the tip of his thumb into my mouth, tracing his nail with my tongue.  I watched as his eyes fluttered shut. Chris jerked his thumb out of my mouth and traced my lips with it again, the slight wetness feeling strangely cold against my skin. “I thought you would want me to. To be gone when you got back.”

He laughed -a sound that wasn’t particularly joyous. He leaned down again, and I could taste his breath; toothpaste and coffee.  “Zach. I swear to _god_ , you’re a fucking idiot.”

Then he kissed me, and my eyes just drifted shut. You always read about sparks and all that crazy shit, but I can’t say I’d ever had it happen to me. I’d seen this man almost break, seen him so jubilant that his feet didn’t seem to be touching the ground, seen him furious, and intent, and laughing so hard that he shot beer out of his nose.  When his lips touched mine, I felt it down to my toes.  He made a sighing sound, one that reminded me forcibly about last night. Then things got blurred; we were practically feeding at each other’s mouths, tasting everything we could. He loved it when our tongues tangled together and he was holding my head now in both hands, just keeping me grounded while we kissed.  I clutched at him, his back, his hips and moaned to feel his body harden for me.

He pulled away and was grinning down at me, looking like all his birthdays had come at once. “You know, I’ve thought about kissing you a lot. But never, in all of those times did you have such,” and he pulled away a little to look down at me, raising an eyebrow, “heinous Cheeto breath.”

Yeah okay, sweet nothings it wasn’t.  If I had any doubts, it was absolutely, positively certain that I was completely in love with him.  

Chris stilled. Entirely, completely still, and I _realized that I had said that out loud._

I froze too for a second, or an hour.

He kissed me again, pushing me against the wall, his hands all over my body. He pushed and pulled, yanking off my shirt.  His hand was wrapped around my dick and I cried out, straining against him.  I grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away.

He looked confused for a second, before he realized that I was walking backwards, leading him to my bedroom.  The shy sort of smile on his face made my heart turn over and fuck, when did I become such a goddamn sap?  We were kissing again. I don’t think I can ever get enough of his mouth.  I managed to flip us around and he fell back onto the mattress.  He was wearing a pair of basketball shorts and I could clearly see his cock under the thin fabric.  Maybe a cliché to say my mouth watered, but it did.  I pulled off my sweats and helped him get naked.

It didn’t take very long.  I wanted to take my time with him. I wanted to feel him, to taste every inch that my hands had touched last night.  I knelt on the bed and stared at his body against my sheets, trying to catch my breath.

“Zach.” Chris reached out, his finger brushing against my cock.  I shuddered and moved away from his hand.

‘Yeah, need a second or this will be over before we really get much of a chance to do anything.”  I recognized the impish look in his eye before I grabbed his hands. “I mean it. That was _not_ a challenge.”

He actually pouted. Honest-to-God, pouted.  It made me laugh.  “What,” I cleared my throat. “What do you want me to do?” I bent and rubbed my cheek against his thigh, looking up at him. His eyes darkened again. “Anything you want, Chris.”

His eyes shut and I could see the furious blush on his cheeks.  He spread his legs in an answer and I caught my breath at the sight. Chris was tan against my sheets, the sun from my window showing me everything. He wasn’t very hairy. His cock lay flushed and ready, curving up against his stomach.  It was absolutely as beautiful as I had imagined.  I licked my lips nervously.

“What have you... done?”  I didn’t mean to whisper; couldn’t seem to help it. He twitched, and I started to move my hands again, stroking along his hips and legs, reaching up to brush my thumbs over his nipples, and tease the muscles in his stomach, to watch his skin jump.

“My fingers. Mostly. I bought ah, a toy.”

I bit my lip again and he opened his eyes, his pupils dilated. “I fucked myself with it the last time we talked on the phone. I came so close then, Zach to telling you.”

Yeah. That? Hottest fucking mental image ever.  I bent down and took his cock into my mouth, licking, swirling my tongue around him.  He shouted and fisted his hands in the sheets, the veins in his forearms bulging for a moment.  

His taste. Fuck. I couldn’t get enough.  I buried my face in his groin, sucking as much of his cock into my mouth as I could, breathing deep. He smelled like the soap I used a few hours ago, and faintly musky. Sweaty.

It was fucking driving me crazy.

I pulled off his cock with a slurp and licked down the underside of his shaft, over his balls, rubbing my cheek lightly against the sensitive skin on the inside of his thighs. Chris spread his legs for me even more, arching against my face.  I lipped at him, taking one then the other in my mouth. Some guys didn’t like this. Clearly Chris wasn’t ‘some guy’ because _fuck,_ he moaned like I was already sliding into him. I pulled a little at the skin, moving my tongue against him and sucking, lapping at the way the skin tightened, wrinkling up, moving my mouth up around his cock and sucking off the precome that had slid down over the head.

I listened to him moaning and smirked. Blushing virgin or not, I wanted him to fucking remember this.  He writhed against the sheets, and I moved my hands to his legs, pulling him wider.  This might be easier with a pillow but I was nothing if not determined.

I heard him, above me _, Oh God Oh fucking god, oh Zach,_ muffled from his arm thrown over his face as I blew gently on his hole.  He dug his feet into the mattress and arched up against my face.  I licked at him, teasing, as I moved everywhere but where he wanted me, flicking my tongue against him like a cat with cream.  I had to press my own cock against the mattress so that I wouldn’t go off, because he was absolutely fucking amazing, pressing against my face like he was desperate for it.   I couldn’t keep my mouth shut anymore and began to talk to him, whispering as I teased him.

“You can feel that, Chris? My tongue against you? Look at you; you want me inside you so badly you’re shaking.”

He shouted again, and I smirked against him, loving every broken _please_ that fell from his lips.  The truth is, I wasn’t trying to torture him or anything, but I was afraid that once I tasted him I would be inside him and this would be over with too fast. I was actually seriously considering getting out my cock ring, but didn’t want to freak Chris out too much.  I pulled away, blowing on the slickness from his precome and my spit and he brought his hands finally to my hair, pushing my face against him.

“Please Zach, please I want it so much, please … fuck, _please_.”

Yeah. Hearing that was not conducive to me not coming right then and there.  “Okay. Okay, Chris calm down. Of course I will.” My hands slid gently against his thighs and I moved under his hands, flicking my tongue around the little hole, pulling back to watch him twitch for me.  My forehead bumped his balls as I moved back, slipping inside, stabbing my tongue into him, slowly working it in.

He cried out and arched again, his hand leaving my head to grip the base of his cock as I worked him open, stopping every few seconds to lick around the sensitive nerves there.  His thighs quivered as I bent back down, moving my tongue in and out, using more spit each time so he was nice and wet.

I heard a garbled sound, a cough and then a gasped…”Stop…fuck, _stop_!”

I swear to God my heart stopped. I jerked away from him like I’d been burned, looking up at him as he rolled, curling away from me with his teeth gritted.

I started to scramble off of the bed, but his hand flew out, grabbing my wrist in a painful grip. “No- no.” He gasped. “I just. I.”  I saw a shudder wrack his body and he turned to look at me.  He gasped, taking a deep breath. “It just. When I thought about this, it was with me coming with you inside me.”

And just like that I could breathe again.  He turned and moved his hand, carefully not looking at me.

“Just... give me a second. Fuck, that was. You’re ah. Quite good at that.”

My lips twitched.  I had to touch him again, but kept everything gentle. His hand finally left his death grip on my wrist and I went to my night stand, fumbling a bit for the lube and a condom.  I felt the mattress shift and knew he had turned over.

I welcomed the feel of the latex, something that would keep me from shooting all over myself like a kid. “Okay, you have to talk to me, okay Chris? I need to know if something hurts.”

“Yeah.” His voice was thin.

“You’re sure about this, yeah? I mean, there’s a lot of other things-“

“Oh my God shut up and fuck me. Zach. I’ve been waiting for this for _months_. Trust me, I want this. I want _you_.”

I had to close my eyes.  If this was a dream I was going to fucking kill something.

“Okay spread for me. Bend down a little, yeah. Like that. Fuck, you’re beautiful like this.”

He laughed a little at my praise and I opened the lube, sliding one wet finger into him. He moaned and pushed back against my finger. “Easy there. I’m not going to rush this, Chris.”

“You can rush it a little,” He muttered, which made me grin kind of stupidly down at him.

I prepared him slowly, more for my own pleasure than anything else.  I loved fingering him, loved the sounds he made as I stretched him slowly open. Stroked against the thin walls inside him, moved them out to rub my nail just lightly against the ring of muscle, and fuck he went crazy for that, moaning and muffling the sound in the pillow. I made it up to three fingers, and he was so tight it was hard to move them like I wanted. I didn’t go right for his prostate. I wanted him to feel that when my cock brushed against him.  I twisted my three fingers a little, pulling out and adding more lube.

“You should see yourself. Your ass twitching for me. I know it burns a little, and you’re taking it so well.” My whispers made him shake and I loved it. I slid back inside of him and moved my fingers so that they were fucking him. I bared my teeth when I saw that he was _moving back,_ moving back against my hand and all of the sudden I couldn’t wait any more.  I jerked my fingers out of him, and heard his protesting moan.  I moved, nudging my cock against his hole and stopping.  He tensed a little and I reached down to grab his cock.

“Still okay?”

“Yeah. Za-aach.” He whined a little when I moved my hand over his cock. With my other hand I lined myself up and slid inside of him just a little.  My eyes fluttered shut at the intense, gripping heat.  It was my turn to moan.

Chris picked up on it, demanding now, “In _side_ , Zach. Inside me _now_.” I moved my hand to grip his hip and he batted my hand away from his cock, so that I could grip him with both hips.  He rose up, moving a little so that he was kind of leaning against my legs, holding himself on my headboard.  I had to rest my forehead against his back for a second as his movement caused him to slide a little further down on my cock.

Chris was panting and I felt him tighten against me, then release his muscles and that was it. I lost it, lost any semblance of being gentle and pulled him down onto me, arching up at the same time.  He fucked himself down onto me once, twice, before I was thrusting up to meet him. I heard his name, and knew I was saying it, but couldn’t seem to stop.  I bit the fuck out of my lip to try to distract myself from coming, needing him to go first.  I tasted his sweat, licking at his back as he moved on top of me.  I stopped for a moment, pushing up with my thighs, so that he fell back down onto his arms and knew I must be rubbing against that little bundle of nerves because he was crying out, _Holy.. fuck Zach_ and _Yes_ and his hand was absolutely flying on his cock.  I moved my arm around his chest, pulling him to me as he shook, fucking him through it as his body fell apart around me.

I moved, pulling his hips up and just pounding into him until I came, throwing my head back and feeling every pulse of my dick deep inside of him.

Then I collapsed.  Right on top of him. Not my best moment, with Chris smooshed up against the headboard, straddling my lap and me smooshed up against his back, but I was flying too high to give a fuck. 

Chris gave a startled _ooomph_ and shifted so that I flopped down beside him, disengaging myself from his body with a wet sound.  I was gonna get a washcloth and get rid of the rubber. In a minute.  Really.

Chris turned, wincing a little until he was leaning over me. I opened my eyes in time to see the faint look of trepidation on his faceas he remembered where my mouth had been before he leaned down and kissed me.

Fucking straight boys. Crack me up every time.

I smirked and he knew I was laughing at him, because the muttered, “Shut _up_.” Made him blush.

He pulled back and rested his head against mine.  For the first time I noticed that he had taken off the butterfly bandage. The bruises on his face were changing color.  I frowned up at him, tracing the marks on his face lightly.  

He smiled a dopy, smile that managed to be sexy and cute as hell at the same time.  He kissed me again and I kissed back.  He sighed and pulled away.

“I’ll be right back.” I didn’t particularly want to leave, but rolling over on a used rubber after it fell off during sleep was so not fun.  Especially not with the amount of body hair I had. Or, worse, waking up with it stuck to you in a weird place was hard to play off as sexy and suave.

He nodded, and I padded to the bathroom, cleaning up and wetting a washcloth for him.  I admit, I kind of loved cleaning him up, the way his limbs were all sleepy and fucked out.  He shivered a little when I moved the washcloth over his ass, cleaning up the lube and yeah maybe it was a little mean, but I pressed a soft little kiss to his stretched little hole and laughed at the way he practically jackknifed up off the bed from the sensation against the over-sensitive skin.

I tossed the washcloth onto the floor and crawled up his body. He was warm, and yeah, quite a cuddleslut which I heartily approved of, and just before I fell asleep… right on that brink of exhaustion where your mind falls apart and into sleep I heard him whisper against my shoulder. Just five little words that managed to terrify me and make me feel like I was the strongest person on the planet.

_“I love you too, Zach.”_

**Author's Note:**

> 2016 edit- I hope you enjoyed! I fixed the tense thing and that issue I seem to have with spelling. Man, writing would be much easier if I could fucking spell.
> 
> ♥ ♥ 
> 
> (You can read more of my Trek stuff [ here](http://archiveofourown.org/users/1lostone/works?fandom_id=601802), my Pinto stuff [ here](http://archiveofourown.org/works?utf8=%E2%9C%93&commit=Sort+and+Filter&work_search%5Bsort_column%5D=revised_at&work_search%5Bfandom_ids%5D%5B%5D=13057&work_search%5Bother_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bquery%5D=&work_search%5Blanguage_id%5D=&work_search%5Bcomplete%5D=0&user_id=1lostone) , and follow me on tumblr [ here](http://1lostone.tumblr.com/).


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